


I've Just Seen A Face

by situation_normal



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: 404: Kylo Ren not found, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Tension, Awkwardness, Daydreaming, Drunk Texting, F/M, Falling In Love, First Meetings, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Kings Cross Station, Like - the softest, London Underground, Loss of Virginity, Love at First Sight, Meet-Cute, Soft Boy Ben Solo, Virgin Ben Solo, Virgin Rey (Star Wars), discussion of suicide, mentions of Pride and Prejudice, uwu, very awkward sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-16 10:11:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17547710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/situation_normal/pseuds/situation_normal
Summary: That was when he saw her.The girl with three buns in her hair. The girl with too much crap laden in her skinny arms. The girl who, when she looked in his direction—no—the direction of the screens listing the day's train times above his head, revealed the only face he ever wanted to see again for the rest of his days.Angels chorused at the sight of that face. Time slowed down. Karen Carpenter was singing in his ears about birds.Armitage Hux was poking him in the shoulder again.Read: Station worker Ben Solo has just seen a face.





	I've Just Seen A Face

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BazineApologist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BazineApologist/gifts).



> Happy birthday @tm2taughtmefamlaw! I hope you enjoy this weird ass fic.
> 
> On another note, I am in a challenge in a discord server to use one of the crazy dick euphemisms from the 18th century erotic novel "Fanny Hill" in a fic, 50 points to anyone who spots it.
> 
> Title taken from the song of the same name by The Beatles.
> 
> Thank you a million to **[Kate_Reid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kate_Reid)** for beta reading this for me and for your reassurance that it's not too weird. Go and check out her fics!
> 
> ALSO I am sorry about the formatting errors, but Ao3 keeps ballsing up my formatting atm and I have no idea how to fix it.

_I've just seen a face,_

_I can't forget the time or place_

_Where we just met._

_She's just the girl for me_

_And I want all the world to see_

_We've met,_

 

_Had it been another day_

_I might have looked the other way_

_And I'd have never been aware._

_But as it is I'll dream of her_

_Tonight._

 

_Falling, yes I am falling,_

_And she keeps calling_

_Me back again._

 

* * *

 

“—Solo?” A sharp rap on his shoulder and a slightly louder, “Ben!” finally snapped Ben Solo out of the swamp-like haze his mind fell into every single day he sat down at his most-boring-job-in-the-world job behind the desk of the ticket office at King’s Cross Station.

Ben lifted his gaze irritably to see the pinched face of his co-worker— _co-worker,_ not _supervisor_ , as he was sure the pasty-faced prick made an intentional habit of forgetting—and raised his eyebrows, not even bothering to voice the unspoken, ‘ _What?’_

Because what, in this age of automated ticket machines and contactless cards and ticket apps, could possibly be important enough to drag him out of the perfectly planned seven-hour inertia which was approximately 92% more satisfying than his actual job?

“Are you even listening to me right now, Solo?” Hux snapped. “Or are you just looking at me? I can see your eyes glazing over when you do that zoning-out thing you do; it’s impolite—I—I can see you doing it now!”

Ben heaved a deep sigh and made a concerted effort to focus on the petulant twat's words and—nope, he couldn’t do it. He was talking about timetables again and, dammit, Ben just couldn’t process that level of boring.

He nodded along absently to the incomprehensible buzzing and turned away to look out of the serving window so that at least Hux wouldn’t have to actually _see_ his eyes glazing over.

That was when he saw her.

The girl with three buns in her hair. The girl with too much crap laden in her skinny arms. The girl who, when she looked in his direction— _no_ —the direction of the screens listing the day's train times above his head, revealed the only face he ever wanted to see again for the rest of his days.

Angels chorused at the sight of that face. Time slowed down. Karen Carpenter was singing in his ears about birds.

Armitage Hux was poking him in the shoulder again.

And then his vision of prancing through a flowery meadow with the beautiful stranger morphed into a vison of himself, strangling Hux with nothing more than the power of his mind.

He snatched Hux's clammy finger and turned to face him with the most fleeting of withering glares. That shut him up.

When he looked back, the girl was gone.

No— _nonononono_.

_Please, no._

No, she wasn’t gone. He jumped out of his seat when he saw her heading towards the stairs that led to the underground, three little buns bouncing as she rushed to catch a train.

“I gotta go—bathroom emergency,” he grunted at Hux as he dashed out of the ticket office with absolutely no plan.

She was too far ahead. He could see her little buns bobbing along through the crowd heading towards the Northern Line. He had to speak to her—had to meet her.

_Drop something,_ he thought desperately. _Give me a reason to talk to you._

But she didn’t. And he couldn’t catch up. He made it to the platform just in time to watch her cram into the carriage as the doors were closing.

He was standing too close to the train. Over the line. He didn’t know why he was even doing this. There was an announcement for passengers to step away from the edge of the platform.

Ben stood there with his hand pressed against the window like a fucking idiot.

And then she turned around. She turned around and for the briefest moment—before he was manhandled away by uniformed police officers—their eyes met. And she pressed her hand against the glass. Against his hand.

+

“So your ‘bathroom emergency’ was so devastating that you thought you’d attempt to throw yourself under a train, did you?” Hux sneered as they walked together back towards the ticket office. “I can only hope that your next attempt will be more successful.”

Ben wasn’t listening. Of course.

He was too busy planning out his _Rush Hour Crush_ letter to send in to the next issue of _Metro_. When did he become this person?

And what exactly does one put in such a letter to describe those feelings without making oneself out to be some kind of deranged stalker?

_Girl with your hair in three buns. We touched hands. I think I love you. Meet me at the ticket office of King's Cross station. BS._

Maybe not. His stupid fucking initials at the end made the whole thing look like a joke, anyway. He’d have to remember to thank his parents for that precious gift if he ever spoke to them again.

What even was it that had drawn him to this girl? He had no idea, but the crippling disappointment he felt at missing his chance to speak to her was almost painful.

“—and because of your ridiculous fucking drama, now there’s a fucking queue at the ticket office for the first time in the past four years!”

Ben glanced up at the booth to assess the so-called ‘queue’ as they approached; clearly Hux had no idea what the word meant, because no dictionary that Ben had ever read would define the term as one person.

_One person._

Ben swallowed hard and stopped walking, allowing Hux to continue on ahead of him into the office alone.

_Her_.

She was staring back at him this time; a mixture of concern and suspicion on her perfect face.

“It’s you,” Ben heard himself say.

She cleared her throat and crossed her arms over her chest, raising her chin a little before replying. “I saw you at the platform, and I wanted to check if you were alright.”

“How did you know where to find me?”

That must’ve been a stupid thing to say, because she looked away, her cheeks colouring prettily under her furrowed brow. “Your uniform,” she said quietly, “and I noticed you here... this morning.”

She’d noticed him. She had noticed him that same morning—maybe moments before he’d seen her—and all at once Ben Solo wanted to sing and cry and beg her on his knees to go out with him.

“Oh.” _Stupid, stupid, stupid. Say something eloquent you useless turd._

“So, it seems like you’re fine. I’ll just...” She shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. “I’ll go.”

Shit. Ben scrambled for something to say. _Anything_. “Uh—no! Don’t... don’t go.”

She met his eyes again and raised an eyebrow.

“I—uh—I noticed you, too. This morning, I mean.” Okay. Apparently talking to attractive girls was hard. This was news. “Your hair is pretty unusual.”

Pretty. Unusual. _Next time just stop at ‘pretty.’ Idiot._

“Right.” She was definitely frowning now. Ben wanted to reach out with his thumb and smooth the little crinkle that appeared between her eyebrows.

She looked over his shoulder towards the underground, looking for an escape route, and Ben knew he’d blown it.

As if he’d ever have a chance with a girl like that anyway. “Right,” he echoed.

She chewed her lip and her expression softened. He must've looked pretty pathetic for her to look at him like that. “Listen—” She heaved her bag off her back and started rooting around inside. She pulled out a small scrap of paper—no, a business card—for him to take. “—I actually volunteer here; my personal number is on the back. If you ever need someone to talk to...”

Ben took the card and looked at it with dawning horror.

_Samaritans_.

“No! Woah, woah, woah.” He grit his teeth and ran a hand through his hair. _She thinks I’m suicidal._ Well, prior to this conversation, the idea had never appealed to him, but right now he was starting to consider it. “I’m not suicidal.”

And then her whole posture relaxed, and she stepped backwards until her legs hit a bench where she promptly slumped down. “Oh, thank god.” She huffed a relieved laugh. “I’m sorry, it’s just that when I noticed you here this morning I didn’t think anything of it, but you looked so listless, and then when I saw you on the platform... you looked... broken. I’m sorry, this is so embarrassing. I’m glad you’re alright.”

“Wow. You came all the way back here to check on me, though. Thanks.”

She smiled at him. Genuinely smiled at him like she was actually happy that he was alive and not planning to change that status any time soon. “No problem. I really have to go now, Ben. I do actually have a job to get to, and I’m about two hours late.” She heaved herself up off the bench and started walking the way he’d just come from.

“Wait, how do you know my name?” He knew that she’d seen his name tag, but he was grasping anything he could reach to keep the conversation going.

“Your name tag,” she called without looking back as she jogged towards the stairs.

“I don’t need this card!” he yelled back, holding the business card above his head.

She turned back to face him, but continued walking backwards with a grin on her face. “Keep it!”

Ben winced in sympathy when she reversed into an incredulous commuter. She blushed and waved one last time before dashing down the stairs.

He turned the little card over in his hand. Her cell phone number was scrawled on the back, along with what he assumed was her name.

Rey.

+

_“In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love—”_

Ben paused the TV and yawned, reaching across the table to grab another handful of chips. This was where it all went wrong for Mr Darcy. He needed to get himself another drink if he was gonna make it through this scene without crying.

Mr Darcy was a prize idiot, Ben knew that. There was no universe in existence where Ben Solo would make such a fool of himself in front of the woman he loved; insulting her to her face like that in the middle of his proposal.

Still, he couldn’t help empathising with him, especially after his own botched attempt at chatting a girl up earlier.

He paused on his way to the fridge when the business card pinned to the cork board on the kitchen wall caught his eye.

_Keep it._

Why, in case he suddenly decided he wanted to commit suicide, or in case he wanted to ask her out?

He looked down at his celebratory First Great Western pyjamas—a hilarious birthday gift from Hux—then back up at his distorted reflection in the polished front of his microwave.

And he saw himself. His crooked nose; his sticky-outy ears; his puffy lips that were too damn soft for a man. He saw a dorky guy with mismatched features; a guy who was obviously kidding himself if he thought a girl like Rey left him her number for anything other than charitable concern.

Ben grabbed himself a beer and shut the fridge.

Time to watch Mr Darcy get rejected. Maybe this time it would actually cheer him up.

Four beers and three episodes later, Ben had his cell phone in one hand and the card with Rey's number on in the other.

He chewed his lip as he stared at the blank message screen, trying to think of something to say. There was no doubt that it was easier to plan out his words without her standing right in front of him looking all pretty and distracting, but there was still the question of how to begin a conversation that he hoped would lead to something else.

It wasn’t something he’d ever done before. Flirting. Dating. _Liking_ someone.

He usually just hated everyone.

  _Ben:_

_Hello. This is Ben Solo. We met earlier at the station. When you left me your number, did you mean I could contact you in a social capacity, or only if I’m having some sort of crisis?_

 

Ben paced around his living room fifteen times and punched a cushion until it was nothing but feathers before he could bring himself to press send, proceeding to throw his phone on the couch a moment later.

His phone screen lit up and pinged before it had even finished bouncing where it landed. Ben dropped down next to the couch and grabbed it. 

_Rey:_

_Hey Ben. I left my no so you could contact me. Whatever capacity. Crisis aversion is my forte, socialising not so much._

 Fuck, fuck, fuck. _Whatever capacity._ Did that include flirting? Did this mean that he had to actually learn how to do that?

_Ben:_

_Crisis aversion is exactly what I need._

This was perfectly doable. He could totally do this.

_Ben:_

_I’ve just watched 6 hours of Pride and Prejudice alone on my couch. As a 29yo bachelor, I feel like this must be the sign of some sort of crisis._

Smooth. Slipped in that little nugget about being single. Now she knew his age, too. 

_Rey:_  

_It’s 2am._

Oh fuck piss wank bastard twatting idiot.

_Ben:_

_Holy shit Rey I am so sorry. I’m drunk texting you because I was too scared to text you when I was sober. I’m trying to flirt with you but this has gone horribly wrong._

They say honesty is the best policy, right? How much more wrong could this have gone, anyway. 

_Rey:_

_Don’t misunderstand me Ben. It’s 2am. You’re drunk watching p &p alone. This is definitely a crisis. A dire crisis. Do you have ice cream?_

 

Hold on

_Ben:_

_I DO NOT._

Was this flirting? Was he doing it right? 

_Rey:_

_Well shit._

_Rey:_  

_I'd bring you some but I rely solely on our glorious public transport system to travel. Plus I just met you today and I’m not sure we're at the stage of 2am booty calls or p &p and chill quite yet._

  _Quite yet._ Hhng. Breathe. Put down the phone. No—pick up the phone! Continue— 

_Ben:_

_I’m an honest drunk, Rey. I need to admit right now that I have no idea how to flirt with you. Or any of it. I’m messaging you because I like you and I don’t usually like anyone so I needed you to know that. It’s special and I’m not interested in any kind of booty calling system._

 Even Ben knew at that point that he wasn't doing it right.   

_Rey:_    

_Okay._

 Maybe he should’ve just been happy to work his way up to booty call status.    

_Rey:_    

_100% serious this time. It’s 2am. I like you too. Lemme think about this because I’m tired rn. Go to sleep. I will too. Let’s talktomorrow. Congrats on working up the courage to text me. Thanks for the clarification re: bootycalling etc._

 Well, now he was definitely not going to be able to sleep.

Except that he definitely did fall asleep five minutes later with his freshly spent instrument of mischief still softening in his hand.

+

“You look like death.”

Ben glowered at Hux from over his environmentally friendly recycled paper coffee cup. “I stayed up too late.”

Hux brushed a speck if invisible dust off his navy woollen uniform issue sweater and sniffed in disgust. “You smell like stale beer.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

He had reread his disastrous text exchange with Rey too many times after waking up. Every time he read it he felt more ill. It was like he’d challenged himself to a competitive round of ‘let’s make a fool of ourself Monday’ and managed to simultaneously win and lose.

She'd been flirting with him. _They’d_ been flirting. Mutually. And he'd fucked it up with his stupid fucking stupidity.

“—I'm terribly sorry, he actually does this quite often, I know what to do, don’t worry.”

Hux pulled him out of his self-flagellatory reverie with an over zealous prod to the shoulder and Ben blinked and stood up immediately when he noticed that his bitch-ass colleague had actually been speaking to someone.

That someone being Rey, the object of both his internal torment and his fantasy during the late night dalliance with his own fist.

“Rey,” he said under his breath. He couldn’t take his eyes off her face. He wished she was this side of the window so he could kiss her.

Wow. Maybe it was a good idea that she was that side of the window.

But she smiled at him; even blushed a little in an inexplicably pleasing way. “Hey, Ben. I’ve got the day off and I thought maybe we could have brunch together?”

Hux rolled his eyes and nodded towards the door. Ben didn’t need any more encouragement than that to grab his jacket and leave with her. If he was being perfectly honest, he didn’t even need that.

And that’s how he found himself sitting in Costa Coffee, eating a disappointing chocolate chip muffin, silently trying to look at Rey as much as he could whilst also trying not to be caught staring at her.

He was not successful. He just couldn’t. Not. Stare.

“You’re staring at me. Stop it,” Rey said without looking up as she popped her mouth off the straw of her iced coffee.

“Sorry,” Ben mumbled. Still staring.

She looked up at him and a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “So, you like me?”

Ben nodded, half stupefied by the pretty way her mouth moved.

“Why?”

Ben swallowed. Wow, he’d never noticed what lips look like when they’re forming words before. “Uh—I don’t know. You’re beautiful. I don’t know. No, it’s not that. It’s something else.”

“’Something else?’” Her smile widened into an amused grin. “Love at first sight? Red string of fate? Something like that?”

He knew he was the one blushing now. God. He hadn’t really thought about it like that, but her words were surprisingly accurate. Embarrassingly accurate. Because when she said it like that it sounded so juvenile and naive.

She reached across the table and took his hand, making him jump. “It’s okay, sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I think it’s cute.”

“You do?” he asked, searching her face for any sign of ridicule. There was none.

“So maybe we can... go on a few dates or something? See if we actually like each other? Then—” She shrugged. “—Pride and Prejudice and chill?”

Ben chewed his cheek, working to stifle any anxiety at the meaning behind her words. He already knew he liked her. He’d fallen so hard he’d never be able to get up again.

And surely if they actually liked each other, his inexperience in that department wouldn’t matter to her.

+

A few dates passed quickly. Suddenly, Rey was just a part of his life. They texted each other throughout the day; she’d stop in at his work to give him a kiss before she rushed to catch her next train; they’d sometimes meet up for lunch.

_“—You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”_

And now she was here. In his apartment. On his couch. In his arms. Nestling further into him and Ben—Ben was definitely not freaking out. That definitely was not a bead of nervous perspiration making its way down his back.

There was a promise behind her casual text earlier in the day. This wasn’t the first time she'd been to his place. It wasn't even the first time they’d lounged together on the couch binge watching old TV shows.  

_Rey:_  

_I’ll bring ice cream, shall we watch p &p?_

They both knew what she meant. Ben had been thinking about it for weeks—since they had first started seeing each other.

He wanted it. Christ. He’d never wanted anything so badly. He was getting to a point where he had to battle with an untimely erection every time she touched his skin.

But how was he supposed to move from this stage of sitting together on the couch watching Mr Darcy getting told while a weirdly tangible, excruciating energy lingered around them, to the stage where they were naked on his bed having sexual intercourse?

Rey picked up the TV remote and shut it off when the credits rolled. Maybe she had a better idea of what to do than he did. He’d just follow her lead.

Sure, he knew the mechanics of it. He’d seen porn. He’d had sex education. But nothing ever seemed to teach you how to get from one stage to the next, and Rey wasn’t getting down on her knees and unbuckling his belt, or leaning saucily over his kitchen counter, exposing her thong with a sly grin which was pretty much how things usually went in porno.

“It’s getting late,” she said softly, moving to stand. “I should probably get going.”

Wait, what? It was only half nine. “Uh—wha—okay. Sure, I’ll walk you back.”

Her face fell a little, but she hid it with a smile and a nod. What the fucking fuck.

“Rey...”

She looked away and grabbed her coat. “I’ve got the day off tomorrow.”

“I know.”

“We should have lunch or something.”

“ _Rey.”_

Finally—fucking _finally_ —she looked back up at him. “Yes?”

“You don’t wanna stay?”

And she looked worried. For some crazy reason she looked like she was actually afraid that he’d say ‘no’ when she asked, “Do you even want me to?”

He pulled her into his arms, resting his chin on the top of her head. “If it was up to me, you’d live here. Why wouldn't I want you to stay?”

She mumbled something incomprehensible against his chest and he loosened his hold on her.

“What?”

“I thought y’know...” She raised her eyebrows pointedly at him. “I thought the whole ‘Pride and Prejudice and chill’ thing was our _code_. I thought you’d be jumping me as soon as I walked in the door, but we’ve been actually _watching_ Pride and Prejudice for three hours now, and you haven’t even kissed me.”

“You don’t like Pride and Prejudice?”

Rey made a noise that could only be described as a growl and her cheeks flushed. “Yes, I fucking like fucking Pride and Prejudice, but I thought we’d be fucking _fucking_ by now!”

Oh. “I...” Ben scratched the back of his neck. “I sort of thought that, too.”

“Well then why aren’t we? I’m nineteen, Ben. You have ten years on me. I was kind of hoping you’d take the lead on this.”

Shit. Balls. Fuck. Truth time. “I—uh—I mean, I can if you want? I haven’t done this before, but I’m sure I could—I mean, it’s instinctual, right? I know where everything’s meant to go.”

He took a step towards her and she took a step back. “Hold on. Say that one more time, because I’m not sure I heard you correctly.”

“I—uh—I know where everything's meant to go?”

“No, before that.”

“It’s instinctu—”

“No, Ben, you know what the fuck I’m talking about, don’t play dumb. You’ve never had sex?”

“Is it really that hard to believe? I mean, look at me.” He gestured vaguely at his face.

“I am looking at you, and yes, it is hard to believe. Please don’t insult my boyfriend.”

Boyfriend. _Boyfriend_. She was still talking, but Ben was floating off somewhere within the beautiful haze of his mind. She said boyfriend.

“—so basically I think we should start by taking our clothes off.”

That got his attention. However that sentence had started, he definitely approved of the way it ended. “I agree.”

“Good. And should we... go into your bedroom?”

Ben had to adjust the rapidly growing hard on in his pants. He just nodded and pointed to his bedroom door.

He followed Rey into his bedroom and watched as she planted herself down on his bed and began unbuttoning her blouse. _Holyshit_.

She paused and looked up at him as she was shrugging out of it. “You, too.”

“Oh—shit—yeah.”

And then somehow they were naked. And Rey was beautiful—so beautiful lying on the bed beneath him. She looked pretty much as nervous as he felt. He wanted this to be good for her.

“Do you... can I touch you? Will you show me how?” he asked. He knew there was a pretty much guaranteed orgasm in this for him, and he hoped beyond reason that he’d somehow manage to get her there, too.

She nodded and took his hand. “I don’t really know what’s best, I’ve never been able to make myself come without a vibrator.”

Fuck. Now he was thinking of Rey using a vibrator on herself and fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

But she led his hand down to her sex and pressed it against her. Ben was more turned on than he’d ever been before in his life and she was... dry. And he lost it. His boner. Gone.

He pulled away from her and sat back on his heels.

Rey hitched herself up onto her elbows. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, I’m fine; I’m just really fucking nervous right now. Can we just kiss for a while?”

Kissing was good. Kissing, he knew how to do. They’d practiced kissing a lot. And Rey seemed relieved, too, when she sat up beside him and he cupped her jaw, pulling her into a familiar, comfortable, easy kiss.

They might've kissed for ten minutes, maybe it was more like an hour—two hours—Ben had no idea, but naked kissing was freaking awesome.

It felt natural to pull her into his lap; it felt natural to run his hands over the smooth bare skin of her back, explore the soft curve of her breasts with his hands and then his mouth.

And it felt natural when the blessed warmth of her wetness leaked over his thigh. He shifted his leg experimentally and she gave a tiny moan of pleasure where it made contact with her pussy.

Ben moved his hands to her hips and pressed her down against him, increasing the pressure and friction as he rubbed her against his leg. She was so sensitive; he watched her face flush pink and her lips part, occasionally releasing a soft gasp when they found the right rhythm.

Her breathing picked up and she kissed him again, hard. Ben felt his dick waking up again between them. Was this—was she...?

She was. She came apart with a quiet, “oh my god,” against his lips, and Ben sighed along with her with relief.

She must’ve felt his erection pressing against her, because she looked down at it, and then back up at his face, biting her lip. “Are you still nervous? I’m not... anymore.”

He shook his head. “I’m not nervous. Let me grab a condom.”

But she gripped his arm to stop him as he reached for his bedside drawer. “We don’t really need one, I started taking birth control when we started dating; neither of us has been with anyone before so...”

Hold the fuck up.

“Uh—Rey—what? You’ve never done this before, either? Why didn’t you say anything?”

She rolled her eyes. “Ugh, I knew it. You zoned out when I called you my boyfriend, didn’t you? I saw your eyes glazing over. Do you know how rude that is?”

“I—uh—”

“We'll talk about it later, right now just get back over here and deflower me.”

“Jesus Christ, Rey.”

His mind went blank when she pushed him down on the bed with new confidence and straddled his hips, lining him up with her entrance and sinking down onto him steadily.

Stars exploded behind his eyes; bursts of heat and adrenaline and pleasure rushed through his veins; Rey, Rey, _Rey_.

Nothing had ever felt so perfectly right. So painfully, urgently good. He wasn’t even in control of his own body as he sat up and flipped their positions.

Fuck. Sex was fucking great.

He came harder than he ever had with his stupid, useless fucking hand.

+

“You look like death.”

Ben leaned back in his seat and sighed, lazily spinning his chair around once. “I stayed up too late.”

Hux wrinkled his nose. “You smell like stale sex. Don’t you ever shower?”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“I got tickets for the Mid-Norfolk Railway Exhibition, you should invite your girlfriend to come with us.”

Ben zoned out. _Girlfriend_.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Basically I'm buying all my old Beatles albums on download recently and I'm being inspired to write reylo.
> 
> Btw I am aware that the ticket office at Kings Cross is pretty fcking busy but let's suspend reality for the sake of this fic XD
> 
> Come and say hi on [Tumblr](https://situation-normal.tumblr.com/)


End file.
